


break the cycle of shame

by tstark (goldandtitanium)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dysfunction!, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Michelle Jones, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Maria Stark's A+ Parenting, Merchant of Death, Past Child Abuse, Protective Tony Stark, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 12:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldandtitanium/pseuds/tstark
Summary: When a ghost from his past reappears, Peter's world is thrown off its axis. Tony notices something’s been off with the Spider-kid lately, and he has a horrible suspicion what it might be.In which some experiences are far more common than they should be... but maybe there's something morbidly comforting in that.





	break the cycle of shame

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR TW: sexual assault/rape!!! PLEASE STAY SAFE when reading!!
> 
> I literally have two WIPs, one of which I haven't updated in more than two months and another that's turning into a 200k behemoth in my drafts, and i write this instead,,, i am terrible
> 
> on the other hand i think this is the first time i've posted a chapter before 1am, so go me!!!
> 
> a quick side note: my depiction of tony's childhood is based on my fic called Stark Manor, which is a (thankfully complete) 60k monster of tony whump. you DON'T have to read that to understand what's going on here, though, bc I'll provide all the context and shit.
> 
> anyways enjoy!!

 

**_—Monday—_ **

 

As Peter squeezed between people on the cramped subway and grabbed the handrail above her is head, he pulled out his phone and slid his earbuds into his ears. He pulled up Spotify and tapped ‘Shuffle Play’, only to be subjected to another godawful Spotify ad.

_“…Try Premium free for 30 days to get on-demand music…”_

Honestly, Mondays were the freaking worst.

Just then, a few Messages notifications popped up at the top of his screen. Peter smiled to himself as he swiped — he had an idea what this might be about.

 

**Ned Leeds**

**Ned:** _ASDHISJALAMALAS_

 **Ned:** _DJEHOSNSKWMSLHSUDUEJJWOWLSL_

 **Ned:** _YES YES YES_

 **Ned:** _A THOUSAND TIMES YES_

 **Ned:** _PETER I LOVE YOU FOREVER YES!!!_

 

Peter grinned.

He wished he could take credit for the idea, but really, it was all May.

In the months since she’d found out about Spider-Man, she’d actually grown pretty close to Mr. Stark. There was the initial _what the fuck do you think you’re doing sending my nephew to fight in the street,_ but Mr. Stark had explained his reasoning, and May had ultimately agreed. She did, however, insist on opening a channel of communication between the two of them, which in time had led to a very unlikely friendship between the two.

Then, last week, May made a surprisingly spectacular dish of pasta carbonara. She was ridiculously proud of it -  _Peter, it tastes so damn good!_ Peter knew this was a big deal for May — Ben had done all of the cooking before he died, and her learning to cook was one more sign of being able to move forward and take control despite her loss.

She’d insisted that they needed to have someone over for dinner in celebration to share her newfound culinary abilities. Unfortunately, Debbie from work was switching to late shifts for the next month, and Jackie was taking a well-earned vacation.

Then she’d had an idea — invite _Tony freaking Stark_ over for dinner.

(It had been almost a year since Mr. Stark brought Peter to fight at Leipzig-Halle Airport and almost six months more since Peter had gotten his powers, but it would never stop being _totally awesome_ that _Iron Man_ was his close friend.)

Except, Mr. Stark was busy too. He spent most evenings and nights either coordinating the construction on the new SI Bangalore facilities or in Geneva for Accords negotiations, which were, to quote him, a “diplomatic clusterfuck" at present. They couldn’t even have him over for lunch on the weekends, since his days were occupied by a quiet crisis in the upper echelons of Stark Industries — the apparent incompetence of their newest CFO. Though Mr. Stark wasn’t the CEO anymore, he was still CTO, Head of R&D, and chairman of the Board of Directors, which was a lot of responsibility in itself; with the added burden of management issues, he had hardly any time at all.

But Mr. Stark had noticed how May had been quietly hurt that he’d turned her offer down. He’d pulled some strings to shift his meetings in Vienna on Thursday night to the U.N. office in New York, saving him the hour-long commute by arc-powered jet and giving him just enough time for a quick dinner.

That Thursday night, however, was the same day Mr. and Mrs. Leeds were both out of town for work, and May had agreed to have Ned stay over.

Which meant Ned got to have dinner with Tony Stark.

 

**Ned Leeds**

**Ned:** _oh my god what do i wear._

 **Ned:** _what do i say_

 **Ned:** _i’m too awkward to meet tony stark!!!_

 **Ned:** _peTER,, H E L P_

 

Peter grinned.

This was going to be a great week.

 

~~~

 

Peter tapped his fingers against his thigh in time to the beat.

_Heavy boots of lead, fills his victims full of dread…_

He took the stairs two at a time up to his apartment on the seventh floor.

_Running as fast as they can, Iron Man lives again…_

He swung his keys around his finger and unlocked the door.

“May, I’m home!”

“Hey, Peter! Guess who’s home from college?”

_College?_

He turned the corner of the kitchen to be faced with a tall, stocky man with sandy blonde hair — the face of his nightmares for five fucking years—

“Hey, kid,” said Skip Westcott, a leering smirk on his lips.

The keys slid from Peter’s hand onto the floor.

 

~~~

 

_He was ten, and he was scared._

_It hurt. It hurt down there._

_He’d never felt so small in his life._

_Skip was going to be here in fifteen minutes, and Peter couldn’t stop his hands from shaking._

_“Can’t — can’t you ask Debbie to cover for you?” Peter wrung his hands and shifted anxiously, avoiding May’s eyes._

_May softened. “Oh, Peter…” she said gently, “we need the money, sweetheart. And I can’t keep taking days off, not when there’s talk of layoffs.”_

_Peter looked down at his feet, guilty. “Sorry,” he mumbled._

_“Hey, it’s okay,” May soothed. Her brows furrowed. “Is there… is something wrong?”_

_Something tightened in Peter’s chest. He wanted to confess — he wanted to tell her all of it, he wanted her to protect him and make it stop. But then he remembered what Skip had said — “they’ll be disgusted by you. Do you want to be a freak? Do you want them to hate you?”_

_He didn’t want May to hate him. He wouldn’t be able to stand it._

_“Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled to his feet. “Just tired.”_

_May patted his cheek. “Then you get some rest, okay? I’ll tell Skip to put you to bed.”_

_Peter almost flinched at that — but he didn’t. “Okay,” he said resignedly._

_“I’ll be home by nine,” May called, before the door swooshed open and slammed shut again, and he was alone in the apartment._

_Shaking, Peter ran back to his room to enjoy his last ten minutes of freedom before the inevitable torture. Curling under the covers on his bunk bed, he wished May or Ben were here. He wished they could help him. He didn’t know what to do._

_His eyes caught sight of the Iron Man poster on the wall._

_Iron Man wouldn’t be scared._

_He scrambled off the bed and groped under the bedframe until his fingers found a red-and-gold cardboard mask, worn at the edges by years of continued use. He held up his hand and imagined the whine of a charging repulsor._

_He wished he could be as strong as Iron Man, and in the mask… he was invincible. Skip couldn’t touch him here._

_Then he remembered something, and his face fell. He lowered his hand slowly and slid the mask off his head._

_Iron Man would never let something like this happen to him._

 

~~~

 

“I’m gonna — I’m gonna go,” Peter stuttered out.

Skip quirked a darkly amused brow.

May appeared behind him. “Where’re you going?”

“Uh… to my… to my room,” he gasped. “I — lots of homework, May. Three AP’s… you get it, right?” he asked desperately.

May softened. “Go, Peter. And try to get to bed at a reasonable time!”

Peter nodded shakily and rushed to his room, collapsing on the bed.

 _Skip is back,_ he thought frantically.

_He could feel his hands on his back, on his hips—_

Peter gasped and shuddered.

_Not real, not real._

No _— real._

He was really here.

The room was too small.

Frantically, Peter pulled the mask over his face, and Spider-Man crawled out of an apartment window.

 

~~~

 

Web-slinging was calming. He stopped two muggings, a robbery, and a car crash when he jumped in front of a careening van.

Peter soared above the New York City skyline, taking it all in. He’d lived here his whole life, but it was always still so… _breathtaking,_ especially from way up high.

In the distance of Manhattan, he caught sight of the Stark Tower skyscraper, and he grinned from ear to ear.

 _Peter,_ Karen spoke up suddenly, _as per protocol, I’d like to alert you of the time._

Peter checked the time at the corner of his HUD. _9:15 p.m._

_Shit._

May had insisted upon a nine o’clock curfew on school nights when he hadn’t done his homework before going out so he’d have enough time to finish his assignments. His education, as she reminded him constantly, always came before being Spider-Man.

“Thanks, Karen,” he mumbled quietly. “I’ll get home.”

Peter swung around and headed up the blocks back to his apartment, turning the nano-retroreflectors on his suit to disguise himself as he disappeared into an alley and snuck back through his window. _9:19 p.m.,_ his HUD read as he stripped from his suit and threw on the jeans and sweatshirt he’d worn that day. Quickly, he whipped out his AP Chemistry textbook and flipped to some random page, pulled some worksheets out of his binder, and pretended to have been doing homework.

May must have heard the noise, because footsteps were approaching his door.

His spider-sense tingled.

With a squeak, his door opened — and it was Skip, not May, who stood in the doorway.

“You’re back,” Skip said heartily, though the sneering curve of his lips betrayed obvious distaste.

Peter’s heart stopped. “Y—yeah. Yeah.”

“May said you went out.”

“I—I did.”

Skip chuckled in false amusement. “But you said you had homework to do… didn’t you?”

Peter gulped hard. “Yeah—that’s—that’s what I said — did — _said.”_

Skip took a menacing step into Peter’s personal space, face now inches from his. “Don’t lie to me, Mr. Parker. Lying is _wrong.”_

“No — no, Sir.” Peter fixed his eyes on the ground.

“Hmm.” Skip leaned in for a long moment, his leering eyes searching Peter’s desperate ones. The one second stretched into a second, and another, and another, an eternity in itself… until, after a long moment, he seemed satisfied, and leaned back with a smirk.

Peter exhaled shakily. Let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Skip turned around with a smooth, confident stride, and opened the bedroom door to leave. Just as he was about to go, though, he twisted his head over his shoulder and threw a mockery of a smile back at the frightened child.

“Pleasure seeing you again, Einstein.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all! hope you liked that! if so, leave me a comment maybe? they motivate me to post faster :)
> 
> if you're waiting me to update my other shit and are mad at me for posting this, please scream at me below, maybe i'll get some Motivation or some shit
> 
> next chapter: Stark Tower bitches
> 
> comments are fucking lifeblood,,


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